


Hot Wings

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Food, Funny, Gen, Humor, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:03:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel samples buffalo wings for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Wings

**Author's Note:**

> This is in response to the anonymous prompt left on the deancaskink meme‘s “Wings” prompt post - [Dean and Cas eat buffalo wings. They're very, very spicy. ~~This meme was totally missing a crack prompt.  
> ~~](http://deancaskink.livejournal.com/1627.html?thread=326747)  
> [Originally Posted Here](http://deancaskink.livejournal.com/1627.html?thread=326747#t328795)
> 
> [ ](http://deancaskink.livejournal.com/1627.html)

Castiel’s arrival cut through the sounds of the diner, heavy wings clattering and riffling through the air, as the breeze of his arrival fanned the hair upon Dean’s head. The hunter looked up from his bowl of hot and spicy buffalo wings, fingers crammed into his mouth as he cleaned them free of cayenne pepper hot sauce and butter smeared upon pale chicken flesh.

Despite the deliciousness of the wings, the spicy coating was becoming a little too much for Dean‘s palate. His eyes were watering and his nose stung from the intensity of the spices, but he wasn’t going to give up on eating them. Sam could only sit opposite Dean, with a smug smile upon his face as he calmly ate his too green, too bland broccoli pasta bake. Dean wagered that his brother had privately placed bets upon when Dean was going to give in and leave the rest of his wings. He’d be damned if he saw that happening and make himself look less of a man, and all because of a spicy meal

Castiel’s eyes were riveted upon the bright orange wings with scant curiosity, dark brows pulled low over stormy blue eyes. He slowly blinked, before he transferred his gaze to Dean’s, as the hunter finished cleaning spices from his thumb.

“What are those?” the angel asked suspiciously, as he pointed to the bowl in front of Dean.

“They’re buffalo wings,” Dean explained, after he’d taken a deep draught of his ice cold Coke.

The ice cubes clinked in the glass as he set it back down upon the table, before Dean picked up another wing fastidiously.

“You must be mistaken, Dean. The last time I looked, buffalo do not possess wings. I should know; I was there when my Father created them,” Castiel replied, knowledgably.

Dean stopped chewing upon his current mouthful of spicy chicken, before he cast a glance at the now laughing Sam. As usual, the younger Winchester stepped in with the correct information.

“The wings don’t belong to real buffalo, Cas,” Sam said, still laughing. “They’re chicken wings. The recipe was created in Buffalo, New York, hence the name.”

“Ah,” Castiel replied, as he nodded his understanding. “May I try one, Dean?”

“Sure. How are you with spicy things, though?” Dean asked, holding back from handing the angel a hot wing just in case.

“I wouldn’t know. I have never tried anything spicy before,” Castiel replied, as he stared fixedly at the half empty bowl of wings in front of Dean. “May I have one, Dean?”

Dean sighed, before he pushed the bowl across the table until it was situated about halfway between their bodies. Considering Castiel had sat himself extremely close to Dean, close enough that their thighs were touching in a long, hot line, it meant there wasn’t much room for manoeuvring.

“Don’t blame me, if you can’t handle it, dude,” Dean warned Castiel, cautiously.

Castiel shrugged daintily, and plucked one of the shiny wings from the bowl, before setting his teeth into the glistening, spicy flesh experimentally. Dean watched as the angel tore off a mouthful, lips liberally smeared with cayenne and butter, and continued watching as Castiel chewed thoughtfully. Sam muttered something about Dean having an oral fixation, a comment which went firmly ignored from Dean‘s side of the table.

Castiel finished his mouthful and set the wing down upon the napkin in front of him. He wiped his fingers clean on one of Sam’s spare napkins, while Dean, not so patiently, waited for the angel’s verdict. Said verdict wasn’t long in coming.

Suddenly, Castiel’s whole body stiffened, eyes wide and glistening in the light, mouth turned down at the corners. His wings, so much larger than the chicken wings in Dean’s bowl, snapped out stiffly from his back, as he ever so quietly screamed. Said scream managed to shatter every last window in the diner, along with every plate, every glass and every light bulb the establishment possessed. Dean and Sam ducked away from the screaming angel, hands covering their ears, eyes screwed tightly shut, as the rest of the diner's patrons hit the floor around them.

Finally, Castiel stopped screaming long enough to give Dean his verdict.

“I do not like them, Dean. They’re too spicy. Don’t get them again,” the angel said, firmly turning wrathful eyes upon the elder hunter.

“I hear ya, dude,” Dean said, readily enough.

Across the table from Dean and Castiel, Sam was already on his feet, dragging his jacket around broad shoulders. Dean glanced up at his brother and followed suit, before the brothers left the room, with Castiel in tow.

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked, once they’d attained the safety of the Impala.

“Seriously? You’re asking me that after you’ve destroyed the whole diner? No way in hell am I paying out thousands of dollars worth of damages, because you can’t keep a lid on your screams,” Dean groused, as he pulled speedily out of the diner’s parking lot.

“You shouldn’t have given him the damn wings, Dean,” Sam said, from where he was sprawled upon the back seat.

“I didn’t know he was gonna have that reaction, did I?” Dean shot back.

“My apologies, Dean,” Castiel replied, calmly, as he watched the scenery outside roll past his window.

Dean huffed out a lengthy breath, before h said - “You don’t have to apologize, Cas. I didn’t like the wings either. They were too hot.”

Castiel turned a faint smile upon Dean, as in the back, Sam began to laugh.

“I believe you owe me ten dollars, Dean,” Sam finally said, once his laughter had abated a little. “I knew you wouldn’t finish that bowl of wings.”

“I would have done, if Cas hadn’t screamed,” Dean retorted. “And I knew you were placing bets on my performance. Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam shot back, as he began laughing once more. “Hey, Cas. Stick around long enough and Dean will kiss you better, won’t you, Dean?”

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean threw back, immediately.

It wasn’t lost on either Sam or Castiel that Dean had not denied Sam’s suggestion and Castiel turned hopeful eyes onto the elder Winchester.

“It did hurt, Dean,” Castiel tried, the hope in his eyes inherent in his tone.

Dean didn’t immediately answer, and when he finally did speak, his words were quiet, spoken hastily from the side of his mouth.

“Later,” Dean whispered.

Amid fresh hoots of laughter from the younger Winchester in the back, Castiel sat back in his own seat in contentment, waiting for Dean to fulfil his promise of kissing it all better.


End file.
